


to war

by Phierie



Series: The Other Side of War [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, F!Byleth, Gen, One Shot, Set between chapter 16 and 17, Verdant Wind route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phierie/pseuds/Phierie
Summary: The Alliance Army, occupying the Great Bridge of Myrrdin, makes ready to march on the Empire. Reflecting on what has been and what is still to come, Byleth and Linhardt share a conversation.





	to war

A stiff breeze blows over the river, riding eastwards until it is halted dead in it’s tracks by the grey stone walls and ramparts of the behemoth that is the Great Bridge of Myrddin. To the south, visible from the short patches of open bridge connecting parts of the fortress, lies the Adrestian Empire. The river is wide and the land on the other side rises from the banks into rolling verdant hills and scatterings of forest in darker shades of green – not at all unlike the lands in Gloucester territory they travelled through to reach the border.

Despite the similarities, the atmosphere across the border is quite different. The hills receding into the horizon seem something dark and foreboding; but perhaps that’s only the influence of the swathes of soldiers occupying the bridge, rushing here and there restocking travelling supplies onto carts and horses; gearing up battalions with repaired armour and weapons; readying the heavy trebuchets and portable ballistas for travel – at last into the empire. The air is abuzz with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

Byleth, caught up in the thick of it all, glances to the side of the bridge and sees a familiar head of green hair. For a brief moment she hesitates, then walks over to the figure.

Linhardt’s hair is being roughly tousled by the wind but he seems to pay it no mind as he looks to the south with deep contemplation over his features – though not a rare sight on Linhardt; Byleth is not surprised.

He glances over and blinks out of whatever trance he’s in when Byleth draws up next to the short wall of the bridge. Byleth looks down and sees the river far below, waters swirling downstream carried by the fast current, and feels very much akin to it.

“Professor,” Linhardt greets. His tone is measured as always and for all her intuition Byleth can’t guess what exactly lies beneath.

“Linhardt. What are you doing out here?”

“Ah, I was running an errand for Catherine…” he begins, a flicker of remembrance crossing his face before his eyes drift back to the land to the south. “I suppose I got distracted.”

Byleth nods, silent. Linhardt glances back, eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t going to ask me if I’m having second thoughts?”

Byleth regards him a long moment. “No, I don’t think I need to,” she says, watching Linhardt’s schooled expression; still it does not falter. “Claude already gave his speech to the troops - he spoke to you personally, I believe.”

“That he did,” Linhardt replies. “He’s a way with words, that one. Makes for a fine leader,” he says, and there’s more than a hint of sarcasm beneath the admiration. “Still… how can you be so sure?”

“I think if you weren’t prepared for what is to come, you never would have left the Empire in the first place,” Byleth states. “It was inevitable that it would come to this. And yet, you came to us all the same. I think you’re strong, Linhardt, and you’ve a steeled heart. More than some would think. Perhaps more than you yourself know.”

“If a steeled heart makes killing easier, I want no part of it,” Linhardt mutters into the wind. He sighs slightly and closes his eyes. “You’re right, of course. I made my choice when I left the Empire and swore fealty to the Alliance. I could not abide by their methods any longer, I… simply wish for an end to this senseless killing. I don’t regret that decision for a moment, but I do regret what is to come.”

Linhardt shakes his head as he blinks open his eyes, strands of his hair and the long white ribbon tying the bun at the back thrown about violently by the wind. A storm of conflicting emotions seems to brew on his face, furrowed brow and pursed lips a marked change from his usual neutrality. It tugs at Byleth’s heart in a way she’s felt all too often in the past weeks; a deep trepidation seconded only by the strong urge to protect.

And Linhardt – in Linhardt she senses there is something special, in his detest at killing, the guilt and fear, the base desires to learn and help others. Linhardt’s soul is kind and pure and it’s as if she’s seeing it plainly for the first time, and the burn of protectiveness in Byleth’s heart brings to mind a memory from past the sea of fog that is the last five years, a promise, _as long as I’m here, I won’t let you die_. And it feels that there’s more weight to it now, staring down the hills of the Adrestian Empire with the sounds of an army making for war filling the space around them, and silently Byleth doubles down on those words anyway. Perhaps a foolish thing to do, as a commander – she hears her father’s words echo in her mind, _the life of one soldier should not be valued over all others_ – but Byleth knows in her heart of hearts that if she allows Linhardt to die she’ll never forgive herself for as long as she may live.

“Do you remember what I told you before,” Linhardt continues, “About not being able to grieve, even for those I knew?”

“Yes, I do,” Byleth replies.

“And you understand it’s likely we’re to meet even more of my former classmates on the battlefield?”

“Yes, I imagine we will.”

Linhardt’s eyes meet Byleth’s and a tiny smile quirks his lips, though Byleth doesn’t quite know what for.

“You know Professor, I believe we’re rather alike,” Linhardt muses. “Perhaps after this is over we can see what lies on the other side of war.”

It should be motivational, reassuring – but in those words Byleth hears the fear and the plea in Linhardt’s heart – after the killing is over, what then but to think of the toll of sacrifices accumulated, the friends forsaken along the way?

Byleth’s not sure she has an answer for him. “We’ve much to face before that, Linhardt. Care that you don’t lose focus on what’s in front of you,” Byleth warns, much to herself as to him.

“Tell me truthfully, Professor,” Linhardt mutters in reply, “Do you believe we have a chance of winning against the Empire?”

“Truthfully? In number alone our forces are weaker, but what we lack in number we make up in skill and firepower. Not to mention strategy,” Byleth adds with a smile as she thinks to Claude, who is probably still cooped up in the makeshift war room of the fortress. “Trust in Claude and the others. As long as we all do our part, I do believe we have a chance to end this.”

Trying to convince herself as much as Linhardt, Byleth draws herself up - steels her own heart and soul and then the sympathetic adviser is gone, in her place the commander, sharp as honed steel, the mercenary, the Ashen Demon. “Come now, you should get that errand done,” Byleth says with a companionable touch to Linhardt’s shoulder as she turns to leave. “That is if Catherine hasn’t got tired of waiting and asked someone else to do it. Her patience is finite, after all.”

Linhardt gives a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, I know. Thank you, Professor.”

“I don’t believe I did much, but you’re welcome all the same,” Byleth says with a small smile as she turns away, stopping just to glance back over her shoulder at him. “Oh, and Linhardt? I hope we might be able to see that together some day. The other side of war. Whatever lies there, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to face it alone.”

Leaving Linhardt with a wide-eyed look on his face, Byleth turns and continues along the thoroughfare of the Great Bridge. With such a task ahead of them, the time has come for emotion to be put to the side and pragmatism and grit held in hand. Still, Byleth thinks of Linhardt, and Claude and all of her other companions, and keeps that protective spirit alight, a tiny candle in the centre of her heart, and it burns on.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I still have a lot of feelings about Verdant Wind, and Linhardt in particular, here we are. Hope you enjoyed & feel free to let me know what you thought! I'm hoping to write more within this universe based on my VW run, as you can see, I've already made the series so I must be feeling optimistic lol
> 
> My [twitter](https://twitter.com/phieriee) / [tumblr](https://phierie.tumblr.com/)


End file.
